


The Sickness that Comes with Revenge

by tarinumenesse



Series: Lone Moon [5]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Background Character Death, Background Relationships, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Post-Time Skip, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2020-10-12 06:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20559584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarinumenesse/pseuds/tarinumenesse
Summary: Byleth reunites with Dimitri, but he is not the person she knew from her days as a professor. She struggles to come to terms with not only the changes in her friend, but also the events that have occurred during her five lost years.





	1. Falling into a War

Dimitri spun, his glare digging into Byleth's very soul as he ground his accusation out.

'You didn't plan on letting him get away, did you?'

Before Byleth could respond, with a roar Dimitri bolted through the hidden door the leader of the thieves had used to escape. Byleth was left standing in the room alone. Wondering how it was possible that her voiceless heart had broken so many times in the hours since she woke.

A moment later Felix entered the room, sword in hand. It was the first time Byleth had seen him clearly since his unexpected arrival with the rest of the Blue Lions. Like Dimitri, he had changed. Frown lines marking the corners of his eyes made him look severe and unfeeling. His face was narrower, suggesting rapid loss of weight. Although Felix had always been clean shaven at the academy, even during chaos, now there was a shadow on his chin.

But Felix was still Felix, and he wasted no time on things such as greetings. He glanced around and saw the door hanging open.

'What happened?' he demanded.

'The leader of the thieves escaped,' Byleth said. 'Dimitri went after him.'

Felix groaned and disappeared through the door.

Byleth dropped the tip of the Sword of the Creator to the ground and clutched the gash on her sword arm, pressing down on it to stop the bleeding. Dimitri was correct in his suspicion that she had planned on letting the thief get away. She had dropped her guard for that very reason, allowing him a minor blow.

But Byleth’s ruse had been for nothing. Of course Dimitri had chased the thief. It was the natural progression of the frightening behaviour he had displayed since Byleth had discovered him in the monastery that morning. The piles of bodies leading to the place where she had found him, and his rejection of her offer of help, had revealed he was not at Garreg Mach because of the promise they had made. And his reaction after realising she was not a ghost had let slip a terrifying detail: he was used to people trying to harm him, and it did not worry him.

Above all, there was the way he talked about death. The Dimitri Byleth knew did not rejoice in killing. But this one spoke of putting people down like vermin, like they were not human at all.

‘Professor!’

Byleth looked up to see Mercedes and Annette at the door of the room. Mercedes’ eyes travelled over Byleth and fixated on her arm. The young woman rushed across the room.

Mercedes was different too. Her magnificent hair had been cropped short to her shoulders, and there were no traces of cosmetics on her face. She moved with a clipped efficiency that Byleth associated with the professional healers who had worked with her father’s mercenary group. She looked weary.

Annette, on the other hand, retained her bright demeanour, demonstrated in the way she bounced towards Byleth. However, she had styled her hair in a fashion that seemed like an attempt to make up for her height. Her dress was tightfitting and typical of the warlocks of the Kingdom, emphasising how slim she had become. It worried Byleth that all of her students were so thin.

‘Please, Professor, sit down,’ Mercedes said, gently taking Byleth’s arm and guiding her towards a bench by the far wall. ‘Annie, take the sword.’

Annette lifted the Sword of the Creator out of Byleth’s hand with both of hers. She carried it to a nearby table, where she gingerly laid it down. Perhaps that meant that the sword was still too heavy for anyone, except Byleth, to lift with one hand. So many mysteries remained, Byleth thought to herself.

Mercedes carefully pulled Byleth’s arm out of her coat sleeve. She bit her lip as she examined the gash.

‘It’s fairly clean, but you can never be too careful,’ Mercedes said. She drew a small vial from the pouch on her belt. ‘Here, Professor, drink this.’

Byleth took the vial with her uninjured arm and glanced at the label. It was an antidote.

‘The thieves were using poisoned weapons,’ Mercedes explained. ‘Poor Ashe was taken down by one, but he’ll be fine in no time. I administered the antidote immediately.’

Byleth popped the stopper out of the vial with her thumb and drank the contents in one gulp. Mercedes held her hand above Byleth’s wound. White light began to circle around her fingers, thickening and spreading until Byleth’s arm was engulfed in it.

‘We thought you were gone, Professor,’ Annette said as Mercedes worked. ‘Everyone searched far and wide for you, but no one ever found a trace. Where were you?’

Byleth shrugged.

‘You don’t know?’ Annette asked, aghast.

‘I was sleeping,’ Byleth said quietly, understanding how ridiculous it sounded.

‘We all thought Dimitri was dead too,’ Mercedes commented lightly.

Before Byleth could question her, a new, deep voice echoed through the room.

‘Professor!’

Annette’s face clouded over. She pointedly stepped away from Byleth as Gilbert crossed the room in two strides. Then nothing had changed there.

‘Are you hurt?’ Gilbert asked, his eyes drawn towards where Mercedes worked on Byleth’s wound.

‘It’s nothing serious,’ Byleth said.

Gilbert glanced around the room, then put down his shield with a sigh. He rolled his shoulder the moment he was free of the weight. The grey streaks at his temple had grown more pronounced since the last time Byleth had seen him, and she noticed in his stance that he favoured one leg.

‘I am glad,’ Gilbert said. ‘There is much to speak of… But first I should tell you that we have dealt with the remaining thieves. Where is His Highness?’

‘He chased the thieves’ leader,’ Byleth answered, pointing towards the escape route.

Gilbert stared at the door for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Byleth was surprised when he turned back to her.

‘How long has it been since you reunited with him?’ Gilbert asked.

‘Only this morning.’

‘And how does he seem to you?’

Byleth found herself unable to answer. She was still so confused herself, trying to understand what had happened. How long she had been lost. How her students had become the people who stood before her, competent beyond anything the Officers Academy could ever offer. They had always seemed so childlike to her, a seasoned mercenary, but now the looks in their eyes and the expressions on their faces… Their innocence was gone.

Felix and Dimitri’s sudden return rescued her. Felix came through the door first, a deep grimace on his face. Dimitri followed at length. There were tell-tale smears of blood on his lance and armour.

‘Your Highness,’ Gilbert said, immediately turning towards Dimitri with a smile and bowing. ‘I am so glad that you are safe.’

Byleth saw Gilbert’s smile give way to shock as he took in Dimitri’s eyepatch, the grey and sickly appearance of his face, the dark circles under his eyes. The sorrow that seemed a physical weight on his shoulders. Byleth had reacted the same way when she saw Dimitri. Her heart had wept at the thought of the pain that his appearance represented.

Dimitri, in turn, studied Gilbert with his one eye. His expression was cynical and cold. Eventually he grunted and pushed past the knight, leaving the room without another word.

Felix dropped down onto the bench beside Byleth with a sigh. He stretched out his legs as he lay his sword beside him.

‘Nice to see some things never change,’ Felix said. ‘All of us have pushed on with our lives and grown up. But he is still a boar.’

‘We cannot begin to comprehend the things he has been through,’ Gilbert said, still looking after Dimitri.

‘We’ve all been through what he has been through,’ Felix replied tartly. ‘That’s what war is.’

‘War?’ Byleth asked. She remembered the villager mentioning something of that sort, but in the first hour after waking it had been hard to properly comprehend anything that was happening around her.

Felix gave her a side-long look. ‘The same war that Edelgard started here five years ago,’ he said. ‘Where have you been?’

Byleth looked away, unable to bear giving him an answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Byleth returns! A few of you have been asking about this, and I am happy to finally deliver her from her five-year slumber.
> 
> Hopefully I have captured each of the Blue Lions well. They will all be walking in and out of this series from now on, and I’m looking forward to exploring some of their experiences of the war in the background. But the main focus will continue to be Dimitri and Byleth.
> 
> I plan for this particular fic to be from Byleth’s point of view, but I have some ideas for other instalments from Dimitri’s viewpoint so that his recovery from the abyss can be further explored.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!


	2. Reunion at the Gate

Byleth exchanged quick greetings with the rest of the Blue Lions in the thieves’ den, but Gilbert urged them all to hurry back to the monastery so they could be sure of shelter and aware of the approach of any further enemies. They set off accordingly, with Gilbert and Felix leading together in determined silence. Behind them Mercedes assisted Ashe, who still felt nauseous from the poison. Annette and Dorothea walked together with their heads close, chattering eagerly about everything that had happened in the last five years, while Ingrid had taken to the skies to scout for any trouble.

That left Sylvain, who grinned at Byleth as he stepped up beside her, his horse trailing behind. Like all the others, he was different. He seemed harder and disenchanted, if no less charming. Byleth noted how he moved in his armour like it was nothing at all and wore his hair pushed back from his eyes. Marks of a knight experienced in combat. Too experienced for a man of his age.

‘I’m glad to see you alive, Professor,’ Sylvain said. ‘And looking remarkably stunning for someone who has been asleep for five years.’

Byleth raised her eyebrows. She couldn’t recall him being present when she had admitted to that.

‘Sorry, Mercedes told me,’ he said as he tugged on his horse’s reins to encourage it to keep moving. ‘If you don’t want to talk about what’s happened the last five years, that’s your call. But I don’t think anyone would blame you for what you did in that time. Goddess knows we've all been through torment and back.’

For her, not torment, but darkness. A place with no sun or stars.

‘And somehow we ended up back here,’ Sylvain finished.

As Byleth lifted her eyes towards the monastery, she couldn’t help but recall the first time she had approached Garreg Mach from this direction with the leaders of the three houses, and future heirs of Fódlan’s nations, walking beside her. She remembered Dimitri offering to show her around. He had been so gentle and polite.

‘Dimitri?’ Byleth questioned.

Sylvain sighed. ‘Well, none of us really know what happened there,’ he said. ‘Honestly, we all thought he was dead. I don’t know what you’ve heard…’

‘I don’t know anything,’ Byleth admitted.

Sylvain tugged aimlessly on the horse’s reins, frowning.

‘I think… I guess it would be better if he told you,’ he said. ‘But it was a bad time for us. None of us believed he did it, of course. Ingrid was ready to break him out of jail. But when we heard he was executed in private…well, we all lost hope. Even Felix was a little upset…’

Byleth was desperate to hear more, to understand what was meant by jail and execution, but Sylvain stopped speaking suddenly. His frown deepened.

Byleth followed the direction of his gaze. At the front gate of the monastery, Dimitri stood watching them. The afternoon light cast sharp shadows across his face, lending his presence a menacing air. His eye patch was stark against his pale skin and flaxen hair. His shoulders were hunched, his posture tense, his arms crossed over his chest as though to block any gestures of friendship and love.

‘Well, I don’t think I’ll ever have to save him from a rampaging girl again,’ Sylvain muttered, apparently more to himself than Byleth.

As Byleth and Sylvain reached the gate, Ingrid guided her pegasus to the ground. She dismounted and strode towards Dimitri.

‘Your Highness!’ she said, reaching a hand out to him. ‘I’m so glad you’re safe…’

Dimitri deflected her hand by turning away and striding into the monastery.

‘Why are you here?’ he demanded as he went.

Ingrid’s hand balled into a fist, hovering in mid-air a moment before she withdrew it. She glanced at Byleth. The rest of the Blue Lions similarly looked to each other for help.

Byleth sighed and followed Dimitri. She didn’t have to go far. He had stopped a few feet from the gate. He stood with his side to it, like he was considering turning back. But when he heard Byleth’s footsteps he looked up, before grunting and dismissing her with a turn of his head.

Dimitri and Byleth both stood there, unmoving, as the others gathered inside the gate. Mercedes helped Ashe over to a bench that had once served as a resting place for the elderly as they made their way to the monastery. Sylvain and Ingrid released their mounts at a likely patch of grass that had grown wild by the side of the path. Felix stopped underneath the archway of the gate and leaned against it, scowling as he examined Dimitri.

Their presence clearly provoked Dimitri anew. ‘I asked you a question,’ he growled as they all watched him, waiting.

The Blue Lions exchanged another round of confused and concerned looks. Only Ashe found the courage to speak up.

‘Did you forget?’ he said, tilting his head to the side. ‘We made a promise.’

Mercedes sat down beside Ashe as she added, ‘Dimitri, weren’t you the one who suggested that we meet here on the eve of the millennium?’

‘I suppose it seems silly that we came considering the state of things,’ Ingrid countered.

Dimitri snorted.

A movement caught Byleth’s eye, drawing her attention from Dimitri. Annette was looking around. Searching for something. When she caught Byleth watching her, Annette smiled and folded her hands together, forcing her attention to Dimitri.

Meanwhile Gilbert stepped forward and bowed to Dimitri once again.

‘Your Highness,’ he said. ‘I have been following news of you for some time now…’

‘Do not call me that.’

Gilbert stopped speaking. He glanced at Byleth, his expression begging for help.

In response, Byleth stepped closer to Dimitri. Dimitri looked directly at her the moment she moved. The anger in his face cast a chill over her entire body.

‘I am not a prince, but a walking corpse,’ he spat.

Hearing those words, Byleth knew that she could not be deterred by his anger. For some reason he was hurting. So she reached out and rested her hand on Dimitri’s arm. He flinched at the touch, but did not pull away entirely. A drop of hope rose in her.

‘Why would you say that?’ she asked quietly.

The hope dissolved as Dimitri drew back violently, turning his head again so he did not have to look at her. His rejection pierced a deep emotion that Byleth did not yet know the name of. All she knew was that when she had woken, Dimitri was the first person to come to mind. Not Rhea, not Flayn or any of the others, but him. The person with whom she had been closest after her father’s death.

‘I can see with my own eyes that you are alive, Your Highness,’ Gilbert said. He pronounced the last two words deliberately, causing Dimitri to grimace. ‘But the jail cells in Fhirdiad are well-guarded. No one has escaped them since before your father’s time. How did you…’

Dimitri shrunk away. His arms fell, dropping beside his body. His strength and fury dissolved into nothing. It was as though he shut himself into a shell before Byleth’s eyes.

‘Dedue.’

More grief was carried in that single word than any lament Byleth had ever heard. She wanted to reach out to Dimitri again, but her body was frozen, fearing his reaction.

‘He’s dead.’

There was a gasp from behind Byleth. She looked over her shoulder to see Annette stumble backwards, her hands raised to her mouth. Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes.

Mercedes rose to her feet and hurried over to Annette. She put her arm around her friend’s shoulders and drew her away. Dorothea followed close behind. Gilbert watched with alarm as the three women stopped at a distance far enough that none of the other Blue Lions could hear them. But Byleth could see that Annette was openly weeping, at least until Dorothea drew her into an embrace and blocked the warlock from their sight.

Byleth glanced at her other students. They all looked a little lost, unsure how to process the news of one of their own losing his life. Ingrid also, surprisingly, had tears in her eyes, while Sylvain was casting about, rubbing the back of his neck. Felix stood there still as stone, unmoved from his place against the gate.

Gilbert tore his eyes from Annette and was confronted with the sorrow that had settled upon the group. The knight looked up at Byleth, uncertainty in his face. Gilbert had never been good with the frequent displays of emotion or passion that burst from the young nobles of Faerghus. Byleth recognised his silent cry for help.

‘We will make a memorial for him in the cemetery,’ Byleth said quietly.

Dimitri looked at her sharply while Gilbert sighed in relief.

‘Quite right,’ Gilbert said. ‘We will honour his loyalty. In the meantime, it has been a trying day. We should go inside and rest.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dorothea is here because she was the only student I recruited on my first play though, and so these events were imagined with her presence. Although there is no support conversation between her and Annette, I can imagine they would become very good friends due to their shared love of music. Dorothea would give Annette tips on romance and Annette would cheer Dorothea up after a difficult battle with one of her songs.
> 
> The structure of the conversation and some of the dialogue is from chapter 13 of Azure Moon, but I have modified it to suit this version of events. I have only directly quoted the sections that I feel are essential, such as Dimitri's comment about being a walking corpse.
> 
> I wanted to make Dedue's death a bit more of a point, as in reality I doubt they would have brushed past it as quickly as they do in game.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts, and kudos are always appreciated. I'm afraid updates may be a little slower since I started a new job this week, but I will be pressing on with this (as well as other fics).
> 
> And yes, I ship Dedue and Annette _so_ hard.


	3. Following the Haunted

The monastery was eerily quiet. Everywhere Byleth looked she saw damage and decay. And memories, each one more painful than the last. She remembered sitting at that table while debating tactics with Claude, and arguing with Lorenz about his inappropriate advances towards woman beside that window. Now the table was overturned and the window was shattered.

It was distressing to see Garreg Mach reduced to a graveyard. Byleth’s single year at the academy had affected her in more ways than all the time she had spent roaming Fódlan with her father.

Exiting the reception hall, Byleth stepped out onto the bridge that led to the cathedral. Wind whipped around her as she left the shelter of the building, tangling and twisting her hair. She pulled her coat closer to break the chill it carried.

Byleth stopped halfway across the bridge to look out across the monastery. There were campfires dotted throughout the grounds, revealing that her students...former students...were not the only people taking shelter in the monastery tonight. It was not surprising. Such a large, abandoned collection of buildings would be attractive shelter to any traveller or vagabond. But she and the Blue Lions would have to be careful. Any one of those campfires could represent danger.

With a sigh, Byleth turned towards the cathedral. Physical threats they could handle. It was threats to the heart and mind, borne by emotion and distress, that worried her.

The cathedral towered over the monastery, peering out across the surrounding landscape. From outside it was as forbidding and overwhelming as always, but Byleth knew that within it was a shadow of its former self. Dirt and rubble scattered across the floor, and strange, dark stains. The dome in pieces on the ground, bearing damage that suggested attacks from ballista. Or perhaps the plunge of a great white beast from the sky.

A shiver passed through Byleth's body as she reached the portcullis. She did not know what had happened to Rhea. The last thing she could recall before waking in the village below Garreg Mach was falling into a chasm of darkness. Byleth could only hope that Rhea was alive, had somehow survived just as she had.

Inside the cathedral, Dimitri was hunched over before the wreckage of the dome. His cape spread across the floor behind him, collecting dust and grime. Sobs bounced off the cathedral walls and reached Byleth's ears. They were the cries of a person completely broken. Sounds that were at odds with the heartless manner in which Dimitri presently conducted himself.

They were sounds that gave Byleth hope. Through them she knew that Dimitri's humanity was intact, even if it was buried under anger and indifference.

Byleth slowly walked towards Dimitri. She hoped that if she approached gently, she would be able to speak with the person she remembered. But her heels echoed on the floor and announced her presence. Dimitri's sobs quietened. He sat back on his heels, resting his fists on his knees in the pose of an ancient warrior.

'What are you doing here?' he asked.

Byleth sat down beside him, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Making herself as small as possible so he did not feel threatened.

'You keep asking that question,' she said. 'I think you know the answer.'

'You should be dead,' Dimitri spat in reply. 'You were dead.'

'But I am not. Believe me, it is as miraculous to me as it is to you.'

'Being alive, you should have fled from this place. As far away as possible.'

'How can I leave when you and the others are here?'

'None of you should be here.'

'We came because of the promise we made,' Byleth said. She paused, then ventured, 'Besides, my place is with you.'

'Don't!'

Dimitri's careful composure cracked. Madness rose in his face. He pushed himself up, his movements violent and wild as he gestured at her.

'Your very presence disgusts me!' he shouted.

Byleth rose to her feet as well, reaching out to take his hands. She grabbed them, holding tightly despite his resistance.

'Dimitri...'

Dimitri tore his hands from hers and shoved her away.

'No! You disgust me!'

He strode away from her towards the altar. He threw himself to his knees on the rubble before it and bowed his head.

'Leave me alone,' he muttered, clasping his hands together in front of him. 'Please, let me be. I promise I won't stray from my task. I promise I will do what is required.'

Byleth watched as he continued to murmur nonsense. There was no one else in the cathedral, but Dimitri was clearly not speaking to her. Nor were his words those of a prayer.

A memory stirred in the depths of her mind. A memory from the last weeks of the year she taught at the academy. Dimitri had been strongly affected by Edelgard's betrayal. Byleth remembered that he had spent hours in the cathedral praying and muttering to himself. Allowing his mind to concoct violent acts of revenge. He had wanted to destroy Edelgard, to wipe her very existence from the earth.

One night during those dark times, Byleth had found Dimitri slumped on a bench in the cathedral, staring at something Byleth could not see. Unwilling to leave any of her students alone in their distress, she had sat down beside him. She had thought he had not noticed her. But after countless minutes of silence he had suddenly spoke.

'Do you understand what it is to carry the weight of ghosts?' he had asked.

Not knowing what to say, Byleth had just turned her face towards him, willing to listen. And he had continued.

'They are unforgiving. They push and push, and I don't have the strength to meet their demands. They are relentless. They have only one wish, and it is a wish that only I can fulfil. And they will never let me be. Tell me, Professor, how do I earn their silence?'

After that mystifying speech, Dimitri had fallen mute again, more distant to Byleth than he had ever been before. As he was at this very moment.

Was it ghosts that haunted him? Byleth could only wonder, as she knew instinctively that Dimitri would not share the truth of his reality with her. He had never been the type to burden anyone with his troubles. Even in madness.

So all Byleth could do was go to Dimitri again. She knelt beside him and rested her hand on his shoulder. She could not give up on him, no matter what plagued him.

He shifted violently, but his voice was soft when he spoke.

'What will it take to convince you to leave me?' he asked.

'You cannot convince me to do that, Dimitri,' Byleth replied.

'I am no longer your student and you are no longer my professor,' Dimitri said. 'You have no obligation to a monster such as me. You know what it is that I have become. You saw it.'

'I do not see a monster. I see my friend, who is in pain.'

Dimitri pushed her hand off his shoulder.

'You are mistaken. There is no one here you know. There is only blood, death and revenge.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments are welcome and appreciated. Thank you for reading!


	4. A Killer's Mercy

The Imperial forces reached the monastery quicker than anyone anticipated. The battle was fierce and long, but at its end victory belonged to the Knights of Seiros. Barely. Edelgard had amassed a powerful force, and the day’s conflict was only a taste of what would come.

As Byleth looked over the carnage that marred the once peaceful town of Garreg Mach, she felt dizzy. Her head was filled with second-hand knowledge of Edelgard’s advances across Fódlan and the devastation of the Kingdom, but her mind insisted only two months had passed since the new emperor declared war against the church. To her, Edelgard had bitterly confessed she had hoped Byleth would join her cause only a month earlier. The emotions carried by those memories were raw.

But none of that worried her as much as Dimitri. For the entire moon, Byleth had tried to break through the dark cloud that surrounded him with little success. He forbade her access to his thoughts, turning her away with grunts and curses. He focussed on the singular goal of destroying Edelgard and gave no heed to real military advantage. He was not the person she had known.

‘You are one of the commanders of this revolt?’

Byleth turned at the sound of the Imperial general’s voice. He was a sandy-haired man in his thirties. The standard on his shield tied him to House Bergliez, as unlikely as that seemed. He was gentler than the other members of that family Byleth had encountered. Even now, kneeling under guard with hands bound, he made no protest.

‘I am,’ Byleth answered.

The general nodded. ‘I am Randolph,’ he said. ‘Your victory is absolute, and as such I know I cannot hope for mercy. Nonetheless I must make a request of you. There are promises I made before…’

Randolph stopped speaking. Byleth heard heavy footsteps and glanced over her shoulder to see Dimitri approaching. He had put on his cape, but it did little to hide the mess on his armour. Despite Gilbert’s plea, Dimitri had entered the fray where the fighting was the thickest.

‘This is the dog?’ Dimitri growled, looking to one of the Knights of Seiros who stood behind Randolph. The knight bowed, confirming the general’s identity.

Dimitri crouched down so that he was at eye level with Randolph. He studied him for a long time.

‘A monster like me,’ Dimitri said softly. ‘Commanding men and women to their deaths for the sake of that abomination who sits on the Imperial throne. Tell me, how do you cope swimming in pools of blood? Consider sharing your secrets. I am sure I have much to learn from scum like you.’

Byleth inched forward. ‘Dimitri, I…’

Dimitri stood, crossing his arms. He looked down at her.

‘Do you intend to interfere with this interrogation?’ he asked. His voice was mild, but poisonous.

‘We should take a moment to rest and gather our thoughts,’ Byleth said. ‘If we ask the right questions, we can learn Edelgard’s plans.’

At Edelgard’s name, a violent tremor passed through Dimitri. He turned from both Byleth and Randolph, and drew his cape around his body as though it was a shield.

‘Do not speak that name in my presence,’ he said.

Byleth ignored his protest, knowing she must take advantage of his hesitation. She looked at the knights.

‘Take the general to the Holy Tomb. That is the most secure location. Stand guard until Dimitri and I…’

‘My lady.’

Randolph’s interjection startled her into silence. Byleth looked down at him.

‘I have family waiting for me,’ Randolph said, meeting her eyes without wavering. ‘Please allow me to go to them.’

Byleth shook her head. ‘You must know we cannot let you leave.’

Randolph swallowed. ‘I know it, but I must take this chance. I cannot die here.’

‘Please go to the tomb and…’

‘There is little point interrogating me. I will not betray my sovereign.’

Byleth was too slow to override Randolph’s words. Dimitri spun back, reaching down and grabbing Randolph’s neck. He lifted him from the ground.

‘You are a monster! Appealing to honour or loyalty will do you no good,’ Dimitri said. ‘As a general, you must have killed countless souls without a shred of mercy. Face the truth of your existence.’

Byleth grabbed Dimitri’s arm with both hands. ‘Dimitri, don’t!’ she cried. But she was no match for Dimitri’s famed strength. Randolph’s feet left the ground.

‘This is war,’ Randolph choked. ‘I did what I had to for the Empire and the people. For my family.’

Dimitri flashed his teeth. ‘For the people and your family?’ he scoffed. ‘I do it for the dead. After all is said and done, we are both murderers.’

‘You are wrong,’ Randolph said, his eyes closing.

Byleth called on the power flowing through her body. There was a flash of light as she tugged on Dimitri’s arm one last time. Even with the Blaiddyd strength, he was unable to resist the force of the Crest of Flames. Randolph collapsed to the ground, wheezing, as Dimitri rounded on Byleth.

‘Do not test me!’ he roared.

‘This is not who you are, Dimitri!’ Byleth shouted back.

Around them, soldiers and knights whose names Byleth did not know watched with wide eyes and open mouths. She saw Ingrid and Gilbert frozen in shock several paces away. Dorothea wrung her hands, wavering between stepping between them and fleeing.

Byleth suddenly realised what she was doing. She had publicly defied Dimitri, the crown prince of Faerghus. The man around whom all these people had gathered in hope. The man they believed in. But how long would that faith last if Dimitri continued down his present road?

Dimitri did not answer Byleth’s accusation, but his eye narrowed dangerously. He spun to Randolph, towering over him.

‘I won’t kill you right away, my fellow monster,’ he said.

Byleth’s stomach churned. She could sense the dread in the air. Even Gilbert, unwavering Gilbert, looked horrified as Dimitri taunted Randolph. Half their forces were watching the prince as he succumbed to his delusions.

‘Unless you object to watching your friends die. One…by…one,’ Dimitri continued.

If word of this spread, their cause would be lost. Their soldiers would flee. Rhea would never be found. The Kingdom would pass into history.

Byleth reached for the goddess’s power, knowing it was useless in this situation, but unable to think of another solution. As she did, her gaze fell on Randolph. He was looking at her with resolve. Begging. He heard Dimitri’s words. He knew what lay at the end of them. He was scared.

Randolph did not speak, but Byleth heard his words.

‘If so, I will do you the service of removing your eyes…’

Byleth moved her hand to her hip and grasped the hilt of her weapon. Randolph smiled at her. She stepped past Dimitri, drawing the Sword of the Creator.

‘…but I will indulge myself and–’

As Byleth swung the Sword, a gasp faltered through the crowd. Randolph collapsed, his blood spilling out across the cobblestones.

Byleth looked away from Randolph’s death spasms. She hated Dimitri in that moment. Hated him for what he had become. For what he had made her do.

‘What is the meaning of this?’

Dimitri had not moved. Fresh droplets of blood were splattered across his face, adding force to the crazed anger in his eye. Byleth squared her shoulders, facing it. She held the Sword before her as a shield.

‘I couldn’t bear to watch,’ she said flatly.

To Byleth’s horror, Dimitri began to laugh. Manically. Without restraint. He threw his arms wide, his cape billowing out.

‘A grievous error, Professor! If you do not approve of what I have become, then kill me.’

His words echoed across the courtyard. Although there were at least a score people gathered, no one made the slightest sound in the hush that followed.

Dimitri remained before her, his arms spread, providing access to his heart. Byleth gripped the pommel of the Sword with both hands to stop them trembling. Her anger surpassed anything she had ever felt, even when her father had been killed. For a moment she thought she would do it.

But then, Dimitri’s eye cleared. She heard his voice more clearly than she had heard Randolph’s.

Kill me. You are my last hope, Professor. Kill me.

Byleth was a mercenary, raised with a sword in hand. The Ashen Demon. She saw what needed to be done and acted. Dimitri had asked a mercy killing of the one person he knew was ruthless enough to carry out the request. Unfeeling enough to end it all. As he had just witnessed, when she had slaughtered a man to save him from future torment.

But Byleth could not. And it was because of him. Dimitri and his friends had taught Byleth how to feel. They had shown her there was more to life than the endless cycle of empty days and cold nights. They had taught her about friendship and love.

She hated Dimitri too much to do what he asked.

Byleth turned away.

She flinched when she heard a thud. Byleth spun back to see Dimitri on his knees, his hands flat on the cobblestones, his chest heaving. Gilbert turned away. Dorothea bit her lip as she began to cry.

When Dimitri looked at Byleth again, there was nothing in his face. No pain, no anger. Nothing at all.

‘If you cannot, then I will continue to use you and your friends until the flesh falls from your bones,’ he said.

Byleth moved towards him, but a hand squeezed her elbow. She looked up to see Felix beside her. He looped her arm through his and drew her away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of the dialogue are quoted or adapted from chapter 13: The Delusional Prince.
> 
> Sorry for the months between installments; Rewriting History has been taking up a lot of room in my fanfic brain.


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